


Fed

by lalejandra



Category: Bandom, Empires (Band), Pete Wentz and His Humans
Genre: Flirting, Kink Bingo 2012, M/M, Pre-Slash, Transformative Works Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:13:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra
Summary: Sean wants toyou knowwith Patrick.For the "food" square on my kink_bingo card. (I too am surprised no one gets hand-fed in this. I don't know!)





	Fed

Six days and going on four shows into the tour, and Sean was beginning to think he had a problem: Patrick's face. And attitude. And general . . . existence.

Patrick was always grinning, always seemed so fucking thrilled to be there, refused to get pissed at the fans who shouted for Pete or told him that he'd been cuter when his hair was red or his body looked different or he wore trucker hats. Tom had said to him the other night, "Man, seriously," and Patrick had said, "I did this already, it's easier this time, fuck it," and Tom had said, "Dude," and he and Patrick had done some complicated handshake that Sean hadn't been able to follow, although also Sean had been drunk because some fans had brought them the biggest bottle of Jack Sean had ever seen, so maybe he'd missed something.

Patrick's eyes were _really bright_. And his hands were strong. His whole body was strong, Sean couldn't help but notice. And his mouth was _pink_. So pink. It seemed like whenever they ate anything, even peanut butter sandwiches (and, fuck, only six days in and Sean was already fucking sick of peanut butter sandwiches), Patrick's mouth ended up shiny and even pinker than it had been before. Today they were having pizza at the venue, so not only was Patrick's mouth slick with grease and a bright, shiny pink, but Sean knew that if he kissed Patrick, right at that moment, Patrick would taste like mozzarella and spicy tomato sauce. 

Mike kicked Sean's foot with his own, but when Sean looked over, Mike didn't look pissed or anything.

"I thought from the way you shut him down so hard," Mike said quietly, "that you weren't interested. But . . . dude, you are _staring_."

"I didn't," Sean protested. "When did I ever?"

"He hit on you for, like, the entire day we were recording those YouTube videos." Mike looked down, stepped on Sean's foot gently. "You didn't notice at all?"

"I just -- all Pete's dudes act like that," Sean replied, feeling incredibly stupid. "I would have noticed if he was serious."

"Sure." Mike grinned at him, stepped on his foot a little harder. "He's into some of the same stuff as you, you know."

"You haven't . . ." Sean stopped himself, because he couldn't finish that sentence. He wasn't even sure what answer he wanted.

"Nah, he and I run kinda parallel." Mike passed the plate in his hands to Sean. "Eat another slice. Stop staring unless you're gonna . . . you know. It's not nice."

"I really want to _you know_ ," said Sean fervently. Then he realized . . . he was doing it again. Staring at Patrick's mouth. And Patrick was staring back at him, a weird, challenging look on his face. Patrick tilted his chin up a little, darted his tongue out to lick his bottom lip.

Sean wasn't sure what the appropriate response was to that -- definitely not to slide to his knees right there, except that was all he really wanted to do. Get on his knees for Patrick, see if Patrick would be interested in some straight up telling him what to do, bossing him around, pulling his hair. Maybe some biting later on, once they got to know each other a little better. It had been at least a few years now since Sean had been with someone who wanted to fuck him, that would be excellent too. 

He dropped his chin, looked at Patrick with from under his eyelashes, the closest he could get to crawling across the room with all these people around and a paper plate with a slice of pizza balanced on his knee.

And Patrick smiled at him, a tiny little smile, just barely lifting one corner of his mouth before he took another slice of pizza.

"Do you think it's okay if I stare at his mouth _now_?" Sean asked Mike.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Fuck if I know, negotiate your own shit," he replied, but he bumped Sean's shoulder with his own, and took a bite of the slice of pizza before Sean could, so Sean knew they were okay.

  



End file.
